


And Every Color Illuminates

by ladyarcherfan3



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies), Mad Max: Fury Road
Genre: Backstory, F/F, Non-Explicit Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 12:33:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5048719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyarcherfan3/pseuds/ladyarcherfan3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Furiosa and The Valkyrie, new initiates, discuss their names and explore each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Every Color Illuminates

They were sprawled on top of a worn, warm blanket on top of the springy grass in the borders of the millet and wheat fields. The night sky stretched above them, blue and vast and studded with stars more visible than they were even in the darkened villages. Alive and busy as The Green Place was, there were always pockets of peace and solitude to be found. And this was their favorite place. 

The night breeze whispered through the tall grains, not cold but cool enough to raise goose-flesh on the little exposed skin not swathed in leather and knits to keep out the encroaching desert heat and sand. But the girls ignored the breeze save for an instinctive shift towards the other, backs to the wind, hearts towards each other seeking warmth and closeness as their muted giggles faded for the moment. 

“I still cannot believe… The Valkyrie? What possessed you?” Furiosa reached out and tweaked a long dark tendril of hair as it danced in the wind. "Don't say it was just because The Morrigan is your initiate mother."

"That's part of the reason. She said I was likely to take her place as defense leader, so I felt it would be a fitting transition. Also, I like the sound of it." 

“It’s going to take some effort to stop calling you Awhina.” 

Awhina the Valkyrie snorted. “You don’t have to stop calling me Awhina. Not everyone goes by their initiate name and you know that. No one calls your mother anything but Mary or Jobassa. They don’t call her The Bullet Singer to her face.” 

“That’s because my mother is terrifying,” Furiosa replied simply. “No need to make her more terrifying on a normal basis.” Mary Jobassa’s sharpshooting skills were renowned, and had apparently been passed to Furiosa, when she took the time to care. 

“Bullet Singer’s Daughter,” Awhina teased in a sing song voice. “And why on earth would you call yourself Quicksilver?” 

Furiosa rolled a little closer to Awhina and propped herself up on her elbow, pillowing her head on her hand. “KT mentioned more than once that I was mercurial.”

“That’s not a compliment.” She tapped Furiosa’s nose the the tip of her finger. 

“No.” Furiosa moved like she was going to bat Awhina’s hand away, but instead let their fingers lace together. “She said she meant it like the old day thermometers, with mercury inside, to gauge temperature. Said I was good at that. Said I was adaptable. Said I had a temper that could change with the touch of a breeze.” Her voice, which had dropped into a lower register, lightened on the last sentence as she fought to keep from laughing.

“Well, you’ll always be Furiosa to me,” Awhina said firmly, lifting their joined hands up like they were about to arm wrestle, but she only let her thumb trace soft strokes against Furiosa’s hand.

“Hmm. I’m beginning to like Valkyrie.” 

“Good. Because I like hearing you say it.” Awhina - Valkyrie - hitched herself a little closer as the wind sent another cool sigh through the fields. 

She heard the click of Furiosa’s throat as she swallowed, dry, and a soft shiver went through her, though the wind had long since passed. Her head dipped as she turned their hands so her lips dragged and then pressed very softly against Furiosa’s. This time, Furiosa scooted closer as her breath shuddered out of her softly. 

They were side by side, not quite touching from forehead to toe, save at the hands. For several long breaths they stayed like that, and then Furiosa moved, her head tilting forward so their foreheads touched. 

“Valkyrie,” she murmured. 

“Furiosa. My Furiosa,” Valkyrie whispered back, and tilted her head just enough that her lips brushed Furiosa’s on the last syllable.

Furiosa’s breath caught, but a grin flashed across her face, like quicksilver, before her lips were pressed fully to Valkyrie’s, a pleased hum rising from her chest.

The coolness of the night breeze disappeared as they pressed closer to each other, shifting so they could reach out and hold and touch. Furiosa’s fingers traced mindless patterns across Valkyrie’s neck and shoulders and onto her back. Breaths heaving into sighs, Valkyrie cupped the back of Furiosa’s head, unable to tangle her fingers in the tight braid that kept her hair bound. She felt down the long braid, and found the leather band that held it together, tugging it off. Furiosa’s hair, wavy from the braid, sun bleached brown, the color of where the Green Place’s rich earth met the golden orange sand of the Wasteland, slowly loosened with each pass of Valkyrie’s fingers through it. 

Furiosa gasped for breath, but then dove back into a kiss, mouth open and tongue darting out to press against Valkyrie’s lips. Her own breath disappeared as she deepened the kiss, one hand in Furiosa’s hair, the other sliding down her side to rest on her hip. She nipped at Furiosa’s lips as she pulled back for breath. 

“Valkyrie!” Furiosa said breathlessly, her hips suddenly jerking forward and rolling. 

Valkyrie caught at Furiosa’s hip and thigh, pulling her leg up and over her own hip so Furiosa could press herself against her. 

They had kissed before, had laid under the stars, mapping each other’s mouths and faces and necks with lips and tongues and heated breaths. But this had a different intensity. The excitement and pride of finally taking their own names, of becoming Initiates instead of just children, all spilled over and washed over them like a wave. 

“My Furiosa,” she gasped back. “Sing my name, Quicksilver. Sing it for me.” She clutched at Furiosa’s hip and buttock, still clothed in leather and rocked her hips into hers as best she could. Her lips slid down Furiosa’s throat and she nipped at the pulse point.

Furiosa let out a thin wail as her hips rocked, and she chased Valkyrie’s mouth until she captured her lips again, breaths almost sobbing out of her between kisses. “Valkyrie, oh Valkyrie,” she whispered. 

“Hold on,” Valkyrie panted, and twisted their positions enough that she could slip her hand under clothing and between Furiosa’s legs. 

“Val!” Furiosa’s cry twisted up into a scream of release, and she pressed her face into Valkyrie’s neck as she trembled and shook and fell again. “Oh, oh Mothers,” she whispered when she found her breath again. “Oh Val, let me.” 

Her hand had barely pressed against Valkyrie’s center, mouth darting around her neck and face, when Val keened out her own release, screaming out both Furiosa’s names in a tangle of syllables.

They curled together, warm and sated but thrilling with passion. The wind rose again, colder than it had been. Valkyrie grabbed an edge of the blanket and rolled, taking Furiosa with her until they were even more tangled up with each other and the fabric than before. 

Furiosa huffed a laugh. “Shouldn’t we go home? It’s late.” 

“No one expects us to rise with the sun the day after our initiation,” Valkyrie argued, without any real energy. 

“Except my mother and KT. They both insisted that we take a patrol run on the bikes tomorrow. And I won’t argue with them.” She kissed Valkyrie again and tried to roll out of the blanket. “Val. Please.” 

“No.” Valkyrie grinned against Furiosa’s neck as she tugged her closer. “Tomorrow you can be our Furiosa, Furiosa Quicksilver of the Many Mothers. Tonight you are my Furiosa.” 

“Fine.” Furiosa nipped at Valkyrie’s ear. “Then I get to call you Feena the rest of the night,” she said, teasing her with the childish pronunciation of her name that Furiosa had managed the first day first played together. 

“As you wish,” Valkyrie replied and buried her face in Furiosa’s hair. 

The next day, Valkyrie paused as she hurried to The Morrigan’s home, running late to meet her initiate mother. Three motorbikes and three desert ready women roared past; the last one slowed, and Furiosa raised her goggles long enough to meet Valkyrie’s eyes. Her grin flashed out, just as much visible through her eyes as on her lips, and then gunned the engine to catch up with KT and Mary, headed for the western borders of The Green Place. 

Valkyrie waved and tamped down the giddy rush that swooped through her stomach. She and Furiosa had seen each other every day since they were tiny children. Seeing her now shouldn’t make her feel silly and powerful all at once. 

She would never see Mary or KT again. And it would be over seven thousand days before she would hold her Furiosa in her arms again.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write a fic for the head canons I've been forming about the Vuvalini names (comparing The Valkyrie to Maddie, for instance), but this happened instead. A bit of name discussion, but then making out and eventually orgasms. I am running with the headcanon that Furiosa and Valkyrie are about 17 or so when Furiosa was captured (about 20 years in the Citadel makes Furiosa 37 when she returns if we go with the actor's age as the same as the character's.) And this is my first posted attempt at anything remotely smutty, so there's that.) Title taken from Florence + The Machine's _Spectrum_


End file.
